Lost Wings
by Dawnbright75.Aracalima
Summary: My second challenge for SecretClan. Sweetfur was a medicine-cat of SnowClan, that is, until she finds she's in love with a warrior. Wih her wings, her joy of life, she is soon shunned by all the clans, and seeks revenge from the Dark Forest.


I look down upon my former clanmates with slitted amber eyes that are hard as stone. My white fur is tugged by a harsh wind. I remember what I thought were my friends and family did to me. I still have the pink scars of where they ripped my wings out. Behind me are huge trunks that are fanned out endlessly. A green-yellow light glows from an unknown source. Mold covers the forest floor and the trees. A mucky stream flows throughout this territory. No prey dares step paw here. Nothing can live here. Nothing but us. I belong here now. And this is why.

I was counting herbs one dawn morning. I had the life I had always wanted: as medicine-cat, loyal friends (or so I thought), an apprentice who was eager to learn, and a family that was always there for me. I even had wings.

The clans were at an era of peace, at the moment. The warriors were restless, always wanting battle.

"Good morning, Sweetfur," mewed a tom.

Sweetfur was my before-name. I am her no more. We will come back to this later.

"Brilliant morning, you mean," I replied.

Weedheart purred. I felt my heart tingle, as if I were getting giddy. I couldn't help myself— I purred back. I was lucky my apprentice, Rosepaw, wasn't present, but it didn't matter. Soon every cat from every clan would know.

"Yes," he agreed. "Brilliant morning."

I couldn't concentrate on my herbs a moment more. His amber eyes bore into my back; I shifted uncomfortably. I gazed longingly at my white, feathery wings neatly folded at my side. It had been so long since I had last flown. All those cats had watched with jealous eyes.

"You're beautiful," he whispered.

"Thank you," I responded shyly. "Would you like to hunt with me?"

"Medicine-cats don't hunt," he protested, ears flicking. "Besides, what of your herbs?"

I glanced back at the leaves, berries and flowers. Then I did something I don't believe I did. I shrugged. "Rosepaw can finish up," I mewed simply. "Now let's go!"

I raced out of camp, feeling my wings drag uselessly at my sides. I loved to fly. I felt so free, so alive. I hated the way cats looked at me, though. I had a heart, then.

"Wait up!" Weedheart cried.

"Catch up," I retorted. Maybe I was grouchy about not being able to use my wings. It was a blessing from StarClan, why shouldn't I use them?

I unfurled my feathered extensions, feeling the air rush around them as I sped up. I bunched my haunches and took off, soaring over the treetops of SnowClan. I heard Weedheart calling me back, saying how beautiful I was, saying he loved me.

"I've always loved you," he yowled.

I stopped thinking, then. My body wavered under the sun. Then I went spiraling back to Earth, not at all under control. I put my paws under me, folded me wings, and rolled to a stop in front of Weedheart.

"You love me?" I whispered.

"Of course, Sweetfur."

"But I'm a medicine-cat," I breathed. "I can't love."

"You already do," he murmured softly. "You love your mother, Swanfeather; you love being a medicine-cat; and you love your wings."

My wings. I spread them again, and took to the sky. My heart was soaring, roaming beneath StarClan's domain. I flipped, enjoying my carefree spirit. I stretched all my limbs, getting lose, and swooping low. I saw the cats glowering at me, jealous mouse-brains. They weren't favored by StarClan. They were just fox-hearts that wanted my wings.

"Show off," muttered one tom. "Thinks she's too good for us," commented a she-cat. I ignored them all. Weedheart galloped below me, smiling with love.

I forgot myself. "I love you, too!" I shrieked. I laughed and twisted in the air. My wings flapped joyously.

"Forbidden love," growled a cat. Cats were bristling in my vision. Some swiped at me. Those crowfood-eaters were so eager for a fight. Some even leapt to the air to pounce atop me. They always missed, and I glided back to camp, landing promptly in the clearing.

I laughed helplessly, lying on my back. The shining sun nearly blinded me, but I didn't care. I thought no cat could love me, and I thought I could love no cat. But Weedheart showed me just how wrong I was.

"Sweetfur," hissed a voice.

I found my footing to see a white she-cat with black paws. "Swanfeather," I squeaked.

"You've broken the medicine-cat code," she continued mercilessly. "I would've thought better of my only daughter."

"What do you know of the medicine-car code?" I snarled, suddenly defensive. "I have freedom, you know." Within limits, the sensible part of me reminded the giddy side.

"I know they aren't supposed to fall in love!" my mother screeched. She glanced at a light gray tom with eyes like Silverpelt. "Permission to kill?"

The gray tom nodded. "Permission granted," he growled.

I stared in horror and terror at my own mother. "B-But I'm your daughter!" I whispered. "You can't lay a claw on me. It's against both codes to kill within your clan, to kill any cat unless you're at a final choice."

"You broke your own code!" Swanfeather screeched. "All cats must be loyal. You don't deserve to live!"

I shrieked as my own kin set claw on my shoulder blade. I collapsed under her weight, screaming in agony and fury. How dare she hurt me! My slender build was no help for me here, and my being a medicine-cat meant I wasn't trained to attack.

Swanfeather ripped diagonally down my body, tearing through my soft feathers. Rage seethed inside my heart. She was cutting away my freedom and joy!

"Mother, stop!" I half-sobbed. "Please, stop!" White downy feathers fell like snow around my head. "No! My wings, oh, my wings!"

Blood was tossed carelessly through he air, staining my remaining wing and my fur. Shock filled my veins, paralyzingly me.

She went for my other wing, next. Once, she cherished my unusual feature, favoring me against my two brothers. Now she was taking them away from me. Is that any way to honor your kin, I thought. Please say it isn't and stop this nonsense! Oh, this is all just a nightmare. I hope it is.

"Halt!" yowled a tom's voice.

As Swanfeather turned her attention away from me, I groaned in fear and pain. My amber eyes became clouded, my brain not registering anything that was happening.

What I didn't see was Weedheart, standing in the entrance to camp. He glared at Swanfeather, muscles rippling under his pelt. "What have you done to Sweetfur?" he demanded. He padded closer, trying to see behind my mother.

"She fell in love with you," Swanfeather growled. "It was against her code."

I felt my life ebbing away with my blood. Not much could save me, but my skills were past down to my apprentice. She knew them well, and though I am still angry with the rest of my clan, I am proud she treated me well.

After five moons of rest and healing, I was back on my paws. The first thing I did was give Rosepaw her full name. If she could heal me of that much blood loss, and infection, I couldn't ask for a better young she-cat to succeed me. Rosepaw became Rosespirit, and I could look to the future.

The one thing she couldn't save were my wings. I would've put the to good use, like to use in bedding, but the queens wouldn't allow fragments of a cat like me touch their precious kits. Instead, they discarded them. The shapeless objects that were my wings were buried far from camp. No warrior dares to go there, now.

It was my first time out of the medicine-den. The first cat a sook was Weedheart.

He was eating fresh-kill, looking tired and hungry. "Weedheart!" my musical voice chimed.

"S-Sweetfur," he gasped.

My ears flicked nervously. "Aren't you glad to see me?"

He wasn't looking at my face. Instead, he gawked at my flanks. I glanced at them, too. My eyes widened when I saw the pink scars. Those were from my wings. They were like a poisoned stream running through a perfectly brilliant meadow, ruining it.

"Scars," he murmured.

"So?" I retort. "Aren't they like trophies for warriors?"

"Y-yes, b-but..."

"Spit it out," I ordered.

"Th-they destroy your beauty," he whispered. He jerked his head do he glared into my innocent amber eyes. "You aren't beautiful. I don't know you. Get away."

I stumbled back in shock as he pushed past me. The cats I almost bumped into scrambled away, never even looking at me. Inside, I knew I was being shunned. That I always would be.

That night was a full moon. Rosespirit went in place of me to the Gathering, probably because I was a disgrace. Weedheart also went, and I was left to uselessness. That was the longest night of my life, the only time I missed going to a Gathering since I became a medicine-cat. The clan camp back at predawn. That was when Rosespirit informed me of something dreadful.

"They call you Lostwings now," she whispered hurriedly as we brushed that morning. "No cat is allowed to go three tail-lengths near you. Elsewise their killed, for tainting purity."

"That's ridiculous!" I gasped.

Rosespirit nodded. "It is. Listen, I've got to go, before I'm sentenced to death." She scurried away before I could say good-bye.

Lostwings. Bitterness overtook my good-natured heart. If that's the game they want to play, then I can play it dirtier, I decided. They will pay for what pain they've caused me. I carried out my vow for the rest of my life, which was ended very soon.

I was dozing in my isolated domain one dusk day. Approaching pawsteps padded on the scraps of dirty moss I slept on. His scent was all I needed. In no time, I was up and spitting. "No closer than three tail-lengths!"

Weedheart narrowed his eyes. "I've permission," he muttered darkly. "Now let this go quietly, I'd prefer it that way."

I backed up against a cliff wall. "What are you doing?" I sputtered.

He ignored my question. "I was the one that started the nickname Lostwings," he informed her quietly. "I announced it in front of all the clans. Now they want to end you."

"And you agree?" I whispered.

He shrugged casually. "You are no longer beautiful, Lostwings," he growled. He bounded forward, until he was right up in my face. "Good-bye, Lostwings." He claws my bitter heart out.

I watch Weedheart from the Dark Forest, now. He is a respected warrior, for he rid the clans of the cat they called Lostwings. Rosespirit had brought on an apprentice, Softpaw. I will leave the medicine-cats alone. They don't deserve my business.

Swanfeather is an elder. I shall deal with her first. Swiftly, silently, I slip unseen into the living world.

I keep to the shade as SnowClan continues with life, unaware I stalk them. As I weave around cats, I almost collide with my former apprentice. That would've not been good. She had a good connection with the nonliving realms, why should that have changed?

Swanfeather basks in the sun, purring like a pathetic kittypet. Snarling, I lean close to her face. My breath smells of death, fear, and blood. I hope she scents that, and fears that. "Swanfeather," I hiss.

The frail she-cat drowsily opens an eye. "Hm...?"

"Someone's lost their hearing," I growl. "I hope it went as painfully as I lost my wings."

"Lostwings!" she exclaims, and leaps to her paws. "She has come back to haunt me!"

"No," I correct her. "I have returned for revenge."

My mother starts to get crazy. Whimpering, she padded in circles. "You're dead, Lostwings. You can't hurt me."

"Oh, I can't, can I?" I purr. "Perhaps you'd like to find out?"

"No!" she shrieks, helplessly. "No!"

"Too bad. It seems I pleaded for your mercy as well," I muse. In a hiss, I tell her, "you gave me none."

Swanfeather dies in front of all her clanmates, none knowing her murderer. I go in search for Weedheart.

He is leading dawn patrol on the CaveClan border. With him are Moleclaw and Watersplash, my brothers. I snicker. This will be fun!

"Weedheart, brothers, remember me?" I hiss in the same tone I addressed Swanfeather.

Watersplash flicks his ears. A mask of terror is worn on his puny face. "Guys? Did you hear that? I thought I heard Lostwings."

"Our sister?" sneered Moleclaw. "No way. She's long dead."

"Not dead so long I forgot who murdered me!" I whisper for Weedheart's ears alone.

My ex-lover halts. "I thought I heard her, too."

"I have returned for revenge," I continue. "You're dead, Weedheart. You made me lose everything, including my wings!"

"You aren't beautiful anymore!" he hisses.

Watersplash and Moleclaw frown at him. "Have you gone insane?"

A CaveClan patrol is in the distance. Now is my chance. My paw darts in—claws unsheathed and very spiky—and tears through the flesh in his chest. Weedheart collapses, screeching in pain. I stay just long enough to see his soul leave for the clouds, and I depart as well.

"My lost wings have been avenged," I whisper. "And so has my ruined life."


End file.
